


Five Days of Obikin

by Qinderella



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, First Time, Fluff, Four out of the five days are happy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One is very angsty, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qinderella/pseuds/Qinderella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of five short Obikin drabbles I wrote for a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. FIRST TIME

“ _First time?_ ” Anakin asked incredulously, and this was clearly a terrible idea because Obi-Wan was already fighting the urge to roll his eyes, and they hadn't even taken their pants off yet. 

“Yes, Anakin. The first time can be quite painful, I was just saying that I--” 

“It's not my first time!” Anakin was yelling now, and Obi-Wan did roll his eyes now.

“Anakin, there's no shame in it.” Obi-Wan assured him, trying to move in for a kiss, and moving a hand down to stroke Anakin’s cheek, but Anakin pushed him away, which was awkward, considering Anakin’s legs were still wrapped around his hips. “It's been a long time for me--I don't have any expectations, I just--”

“It's not my first time!” To try and be more convincing the second time, Anakin decided to yell louder. Obi-Wan winced. “It's not! I've been with tons of people. I've had _so much_ sex, Master, in every position--”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes again and let out a heavy sigh. “Anakin, there's no reason for you to lie to me. This isn't a competition, it's supposed to be a mutual experience…”

“I'm not lying,” Anakin replied defiantly, glaring up at Obi and crossing his arms over his bare chest, as best as he could underneath Obi-Wan. As if the situation couldn't get any more ridiculous.

“Oh, yeah?” Obi-Wan shouldn't have played into his games, but Anakin was infuriating and always seemed dead set on dragging him down to the low road. “When have you had all this sex, Anakin? Who with?”

Anakin spluttered. “You know, people! I don't remember their names. _Padmé_. You don't know what I do when you're not around. You're not always with me, Master.” He huffed, looking away when Obi-Wan tried to maintain eye contact with him.  

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “I don't have to be.”

“You may be wise and all-knowing to the Jedi council but--”

“I would've felt it.” Obi-Wan finally said bluntly, with a sigh. Anakin was stunned into silence, so Obi-Wan continued. “If you'd...been with someone. I would've felt it. Our force connection is stronger than any I've ever known, Anakin. I would know if you...did that.”

Anakin looked horrified, and his face was burning, and it made Obi-Wan feel guilty, so he tried to touch Anakin’s face again. It was not well received. “Anakin, I don't know why you felt the need to lie to me--”

“Oh, shut up!” Anakin yelled, and it was juvenile, but it was still cutting, and it pushed Obi-Wan’s last button.

“Anakin, if you're going to lie about this sort of thing, and refuse to talk to me about it, then I was right and you're not mature enough to be having sex in the first place.”

There was truth to what he said but it was the wrong thing to say and Obi-Wan halfway regretted it as he was saying it.

“Get off of me!” Anakin yelled, and pushed him off and Obi-Wan let him, watching helplessly as Anakin grabbed his robe and ran from the room, trying--and failing--to force slam the door behind him. It hit the frame so hard that it rebounded off the frame and slid back open, and Obi-Wan watched his padawan run away down the hall.

He sighed and flopped back onto his bed.

It smelled like Anakin.

Lovely.

.

.

Though Anakin loved to drag him down to the low road, Obi-Wan always managed to get up, dust off the dirt, and crawl back up to the high road, even if it was a painful climb sometimes.

He let Anakin stew for longer than he should have, but he was embarrassed and unsure of himself and didn't know how to handle such a situation. He had been hesitant about starting an intimate relationship with Anakin in the first place, and this only seemed to prove his hesitations right. Yet, when he was still awake at 3 AM, thinking about Anakin and occasionally glancing over at the empty space in the bed next to him, he sighed. Everyone was allowed one or two poor decisions in life, even Jedi masters. At least, that's what he told himself as he slunk out of bed and grabbed his bed, heading silently down the hall.

He waved his hand and Anakin’s door slid open. Apparently Anakin hadn't had the same problem with falling asleep, because he was passed out in bed, breathing evenly, and Obi-Wan stared at him for a few moments longer than he intended to. It might've been the most peaceful Anakin ever looked, yet Obi-Wan found that he missed seeing the light in Anakin’s eyes, missed the fire in his quick movements. He missed the life, the chaos, so different from his own inner life, and sometimes he thought without Anakin, he'd listen and discover that his heart wasn't actually beating. 

Obi-Wan deliberated on what to do, and considered waking Anakin, but that was always a dangerous move, Anakin _hated_ being woken up. Finally, he opted to crawl in bed next to Anakin. The bed dipped beneath his movement, and he moved his arm to drape across Anakin’s waist, cuddling closer to him. 

He was unsure of how it would be received--if Anakin woke up to someone being in his bed, he had every right to attack them, Obi-Wan wouldn't have even held it against him. Of course, he had subconsciously sensed Obi-Wan, the way they always sensed one another, and Obi-Wan felt fingers moved up to card through his hair. He relaxed entirely once Anakin touched him, and pressed his face against Anakin’s ribcage. 

“Master,” Anakin murmured softly, voice still a little thick with sleep, and it was endearing, so Obi-Wan pressed a kiss against Anakin’s side. This made Anakin sigh, and Obi-Wan continued to trail kisses across his chest, settling for his neck, where he kept his mouth, listening to the changes in Anakin’s breathing when he sucked a few light marks into his skin.

Anakin moaned softly into the darkness of his room and let Obi-Wan continue for a couple of minutes, before he turned over so that they could face each other. He moved a hand up to cup Obi-Wan’s cheek, and then they kissed.

Any remaining tension between them melted then, and Anakin hitched a leg over his hips, and Obi-Wan tried to fidget around with a bottle of lube in the dark, until he finally asked Anakin if they could turn the lights on. Anakin laughed at him, but waved his hand and flicked the lights on anyway. He went back down, and his arm went over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, fingers curling against the back of his neck when Obi-Wan teased him open.

“Nn--f-fuck..” It was a foreign feeling to Anakin, as he'd always been too useless to try this on himself, and Obi-Wan had been right before. This was his _first time_. He'd only been a child when he'd been taken away for Jedi training, and growing up with a master like Obi-Wan hadn't exactly allowed for much time for him to get down. The only feasible opportunity he'd had was with Padmé, and well. That hadn't worked out.

Now, Anakin was glad that he hadn't had any such opportunities, and his hand slid up to tangle in Obi-Wan’s hair. “Kiss me,” he muttered, and Obi-Wan acquiesced with a slight smile. Anakin was a little sloppy in the kiss, and he was pulling Obi-Wan’s hair a little too hard, but Obi-Wan surprisingly didn't mind, he was too distracted with how Anakin was nearly burning his fingers.

Anakin’s mouth tasted like cinnamon and charcoal and sugar, and Obi-Wan thought that kissing him is what going home would've felt like. He'd never gone back home, after Qui-Gon took him on, and now he felt like maybe he finally had.

“Anakin…”

“Do it,” Anakin nodded with a gasp, letting his nose bump against Obi-Wan’s as he moved back to gaze into his eyes.

Obi-Wan nodded and kissed Anakin’s forehead softly, then moved one hand down to brace Anakin’s thigh and pull it up further, then settled his other hand underneath Anakin’s side so he could maneuver him down, then slowly push up into him.

Anakin cried out and the air between them quaked. Obi-Wan saw stars, and not the ones that were outside the window, and tried to haul Anakin closer, though they were already very close together.

“ _Nngh--mmmf--_ ” Anakin made a string of breathless noises before burying his face against Obi-Wan’s shoulder and experimentally moving against him.

Obi-Wan was going to ask Anakin if he was okay, but he didn't need to. He could feel Anakin pretty strongly on a normal, day-to-day basis, and now it was amplified by a thousand. He could feel everything that Anakin was feeling, and that may have been even better than the physical sensation of being inside of Anakin.

Though, that was pretty damn good too, and he slid his hand to the small of Anakin’s back to keep him held close, as he moved in him, kissing him then moving back to gaze at him.

It wasn't too long before Anakin had adjusted to the sting, and grown tired of the awkward angle, and he pushed Obi-Wan over and went with him so he was on top. It shouldn't have surprised Obi-Wan, but it did and he went wide eyed as Anakin moved rhythmically. Anakin smirked at his obvious surprise and shrugged. “What? You know I'll always come out _on top_ , Master,” he said, then promptly let out an uncharacteristic squeal moments later when Obi-Wan gracefully flipped them so Anakin was pinned to the mattress.

“Mm, maybe one day, my young padawan. But not today, and not with me,” Obi-Wan teased him with the lighthearted power play. Anakin pouted for a second, but then he laughed, and they kissed. Anakin’s legs found their way around his hips again and soon Anakin’s laughter had dissolved into moans, and between them, heavy breathing and moans replaced the air in the room.

It didn't last long, though Obi-Wan felt like he'd been in between Anakin’s legs since the birth of the galaxy and thought he was seeing the end of it behind his eyelids when he spilled inside of him. Anakin’s nails scratched a new solar system into his back as he came, and he said his name, which made Obi-Wan blink with surprise. He rarely heard Anakin say his name. He liked it 

He stayed in place for longer than he needed to, simply staring down at Anakin and watching him try, and fail to regulate his breathing. Anakin stared back and finally licked his lips and let his hands fall from Obi-Wan’s hair back onto his pillow. “What, Master?”

Obi-Wan nearly scoffed, and rolled his eyes. It could be after a fight or after sex, he would always roll his eyes at Anakin. He rolled off of Anakin and flopped onto the bed next to him, gazing up at the ceiling. “You know what, Anakin.”

“No I don't,” Anakin replied defiantly, propping himself up on his side, wincing only a little at the rising soreness. “What?”

“Anakin.”

“Were you thinking about how much you love me?”

The words landed like lead between them, Anakin had only been mindlessly teasing, but Obi-Wan could feel the regret begin to well up within Anakin. He paused, then also propped himself up so he could look over at Anakin. “Anakin. Take love, multiply it by infinity and take it to the depths of forever, and you still have only a glimpse of how I feel for you.”

Obi-Wan expected Anakin to roll his eyes, but instead Anakin surged forward and kissed him and they fell back onto the bed, as Obi-Wan’s arms gave out.

“ _Oof--!_ Anakin.” Obi-Wan said affectionately, stroking Anakin’s hair and pulling him close so they could nuzzle together.

“Mmm." 

It was silent for a few minutes, as he and Anakin simply enjoyed one another’s close proximity and breathed in each other’s air, lungs burning with each expanse.

“I'm...glad you were my first time, Master,” Anakin finally said, tracing his fingers across Obi-Wan’s chest affectionately. Obi-Wan raised his eyes, a little surprised, and opened his mouth to reply, but Anakin continued. “And I'd be happy if I didn't have it with _tons of people._ But, about the _in every position_ part…”

“ _Uncivilised_ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan scolded, but he was laughing and tugging Anakin down as he said it.

Unsurprisingly, it kind of felt like his first time, too.

.


	2. MEMORIES

“Sheiße!”

Anakin yelled a foreign profanity and Obi-Wan had to gently set down what he was holding in a slow, controlled movement as initially he had almost dropped it, he was so startled. “Anakin?” He turned, looking at where Anakin was standing a few feet away, clutching his hand, unconsciously curled in on himself as he gazed down, hair falling around his face. He didn’t reply, and Obi abandoned his task at hand in favour of moving closer to Anakin, brow knitting in concern. “Anakin?”

“Nothing, I cut myself, that’s all,” Anakin muttered, cradling his hand for a few seconds later, before glancing up and over at Obi-Wan. It was pain that was radiating from Anakin, not anger, Obi-Wan realised. Anakin simply projected both so similarly, sometimes Obi-Wan couldn’t tell the difference. He gazed at Anakin without replying, he was close enough that he could see the blood trickling down Anakin’s forefinger, smudging onto his other hand as Anakin tried futilely to apply pressure. It was a small cut, but it was deep, so Anakin was bleeding all over the white floor. However, the floor was the least of Obi-Wan’s concern, and he felt a little dazed as he stared at Anakin, eyes beginning to glaze over as his apprentice continued to mutter complaints beneath his breath and attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Master, can you get me a bacta patch?” Anakin asked, not looking away from his hand, as he continued to hold it and try to keep the blood away from his light coloured robes.

“Master?”

.

_“Master!”_

_Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin at the shrill scream of his name, and he looked around to see Anakin standing in the middle of the room, clutching at his hand. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was lying at his feet, and it didn’t take a jedi master to figure out what had happened. Obi-Wan sighed heavily and stood, moving over to where Anakin was standing. He could hear the sniffling and he had to bite back a groan. “Anakin, what have I told you about using my lightsaber unsupervised?”_

_“Master, I really hurt my hand,” Anakin was still staring down at the burnt appendage and he jerked it away when Obi-Wan reached for it._

_“Anakin, let me see.” Obi-Wan’s patience had basically started at zero, and they had nowhere to go but down. “Anakin!”_

_Obi-Wan saw the tears begin to drip down Anakin’s face, and he was completely taken aback. Anakin wasn’t a well behaved child, by any means, and he had his fair share of bratty days, but he typically didn’t cry. Well, sometimes he did. Anakin could hear him crying in his rooms sometimes, but he always pretended that he didn’t. ‘He misses his mother, Obi-Wan,’ Qui-Gon had said, when he noticed Obi-Wan bristle uncomfortably at the distant sound of crying down the hallway. Obi-Wan had mumbled something how so did he, but Qui-Gon didn’t see him crying about it. Qui-Gon had almost given him a smile, but had mostly just shook his head._

_Obi-Wan could handle Anakin crying because he was homesick--though really, he was over a year into his jedi training, wasn’t it well past time for homesickness?--so long as his pillow was the only one to witness it, but he didn’t know how to handle this. Anakin was still sniffling and nursing his hand against his chest, and Obi-Wan was frustrated and moved away from his padawan, grabbing some nearby antiseptic spray and a couple bacta patches. “Clean yourself up and put my saber away,” he instructed, handing the items to Anakin, who took them with an extra loud sniffle and without looking up, then quickly left the room, even though he’d been there first._

_He headed aimlessly down the hall, feeling angry, and even angrier at himself for feeling angry in the first place, and he finally settled for leaning against a window, hands braced on the sill, as he exhaled a breath he’d been holding for what felt like the last year._

_“I can’t do this, Master.”_

_He had sensed his master without needing to turn around. Though the Jedi master had died over a year before, their force connection lived on. Qui-Gon very rarely came to him, though, so Obi-Wan knew he must’ve really been in bad shape this time._

_“You are the master now, Obi-Wan.” Came Qui-Gon’s gentle reply, and Obi had to fight back the impulse to shout at him. Yeah, well I didn’t want to be!_

_How could it be that he had completed his own Jedi training, and was now training a jedi of his own, and he could still occasionally feel such unproductive emotions make a home in his chest?_

_“I can’t do it.” He restated, and he didn’t have to look to know that Qui-Gon was shaking his head, but he looked anyway._

_“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon glimmered in the light shining through the window, and he gazed at Obi-Wan thoughtfully. “You do not want to do this. There is a difference. You should know that by now.”_

_“Okay--what I want isn’t the point. I was not ready to take on a padawan, Master, especially not the one you gave me! Anakin is--”_

_“Young. He is young, Obi-Wan. And unlike you, he did not grow up knowing what he might become. He has lost much, in his short life, and you are all he has.”_

_“I was not ready--”_

_“Ready or not, Anakin is your responsibility. You agreed to take him on.” Obi-Wan really didn’t need the reminder, and he glared at his former master._

_“He was meant to be yours!” Obi-Wan protested futilely, as if arguing with his master’s force ghost would somehow fix the wires that had short-circuited somewhere along the way. “You would have been good for him, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to do this, I have already made so many mistakes--”_

_“My young padawan, have you still not learned after all this time? Admitting you are wrong is more valuable than always being right. It is the first step to becoming the jedi master that your padawan deserves. If you think that I was always the master you deserved, then you clearly do not remember your early training with a clear and focused mind.”_

_Obi-Wan sighed, slumping in defeat. Even in death, Qui-Gon could always bring him back to his truest centre, even when he hardly knew he was off kilter. Always holding him accountable, always keeping him right. Obi-Wan missed him._

_“I know.” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan looked back up, forlorn. “Obi-Wan, when I told that Jedi council that there was nothing more I could do for you, that you were ready for the jedi trials, I was not simply saying that to get you out of the way--”_

_“I know, Master--”_

_Qui-Gon held up his hand and continued speaking. “The only thing I could have done for you, was prevented you from being the jedi master that you had grown to be. Obi-Wan, you are the jedi master that Anakin deserves, and he knows that. The only one who needs to know it is you.”_

_“I’m really starting to think that boy still needs a parent, not a Jedi master.”_

_“My young padawan, don’t try so hard to remember how you should feel, that you forget how you do feel.”_

_Before Obi-Wan could ask for clarification on his master’s cryptic advice, he had vanished as suddenly and with as little fanfare as he had appeared with. It made Obi-Wan sigh and reflexively reach out towards the space he’d been occupying seconds earlier._

_And maybe he didn’t want to, but with a resolute determination that he knew he had somewhere deep down, even if he’d yet to find it, he headed back down the hall, to the main room where he had abandoned Anakin._

_Anakin was sitting in the middle of the floor, still halfheartedly crying and poorly attempting to bandage his hand. Obi-Wan gazed at him for a moment, and pushed the intrusive thoughts from his head, the thoughts that told him he had to teach Anakin how to be strong, that emotions were worse than any wound one could endure, and tried to just feel. What did he feel, watching Anakin try and dress a wound with tears in his eyes?_

_“Anakin.” His voice was softer and Anakin looked up. His pale cheeks were reddened from pain, and his eyes were a little puffy. “Let me see that.”_

_Either it really was a two-way street, or Qui-Gon’s force ghost had appeared to Anakin, too, because the child gazed up at him and then obeyed, letting his hand drop away as he extended his hand out towards Obi-Wan._

_“Does it still hurt?” Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin just nodded with a sniffle. Obi-Wan reached for the antiseptic spray and then gently grazed his fingers across Anakin’s hand in order to take it into his own. A gentle spray made Anakin wince and Obi-Wan gave him a reassuring smile. He applied the bacta patch, and then took Anakin’s small hand between both of his. “Anakin, pain is something that everyone feels.”_

_Anakin’s eyes were a little wide. “Even you?” he mumbled, blinking up at Obi-Wan with eyes that were still so innocent, despite the way they reflected everything they’d seen._

_Obi-Wan smiled a little. “Even me.” He was feeling it right now. “It is not the inability to feel pain that makes us special, it is the ability to feel it and control it. If you let pain control you, Anakin, then there will be more dark paths to stumble upon.”_

_Anakin frowned, and Obi-Wan let a little force flow between their hands, and watched as Anakin visibly relaxed, staring at their hands in awe. “Perhaps the most important thing about pain, Anakin, is sharing it.”_

_After a moment or two, Obi-Wan felt the force push back against him. His hand hurt, too._

“Master, please? I’m bleeding everywhere, can you please get me a bacta patch?”

Anakin’s annoyed huff broke through Obi-Wan’s pure reverie and he blinked a couple of times, refocusing on the scene in front of him. Anakin had grown a lot, and he no longer cried himself to sleep. Obi-Wan blinked again.

Without any further ado, Obi-Wan moved to grab a bacta patch, but then promptly grabbed Anakin’s hand and took it between his own before he could even apply it.

“Master--!”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply and simply gazed at Anakin, who gaped in annoyance at first, looking at Obi-Wan, then down at their hands. His hand was throbbing between Obi-Wan’s, and his blood was beginning to feel sticky, all he wanted was a bandage on, and he was about to snap and tell Obi-Wan just that, when he felt the comforting and familiar sensation of Obi-Wan’s force encompass his hand. This sent a shiver down Anakin’s spine, and any annoyance he’d felt about cutting his hand immediately faded. Gently, he bowed his head.

_“Master, it still hurts.” Anakin was staring up at Obi-Wan, and all he could think about was how his mother used to treat his wounds. She would always fuss over him and he’d pretend he hated it, but really he just wanted more. She would fix him all up, then press small, little kisses on his injuries. Then she would ask if they felt better and he would say no. She would laugh._

_Obi-Wan bowed his head and brushed soft lips against the patch on Anakin’s hand. “As it should, Anakin. If it doesn’t hurt, you aren’t feeling.”_

He could feel Anakin’s blood begin to congeal on his palm, but all he did was hold Anakin’s hand there, steadfast. It only took a moment or two before he felt the all too familiar feeling of the force pushing against his hand.

It hurt.


	3. TEARS

Obi-Wan watched the opaque tears rolling down Anakin’s cheeks sparkle beneath the light, a few dripping off his nose, and a couple more from his chin, before Anakin could bring the sleeve of his robe up and wipe them away. Obi-Wan scowled. 

“Stop laughing, Anakin. It’s not that funny.”

A fresh bout of tears sprung to Anakin’s eyes as he laughed even harder, opening his mouth to reply, then losing himself to another bout of laughter. Obi-Wan’s scowl deepened, adding at least ten new frown lines to his face. “Yes, Master-- _ hahahahahha _ \--i-it is,” Anakin finally replied, dabbing at his eyes with his robe again. Then he was laughing again as he trailed behind Obi-Wan on the way back to their private quarters.

Obi-Wan huffed. “It was the emperor of the planet who invited us, Anakin. When she said a group session, I assumed that she meant meditation…”

Anakin cackled. 

Obi-Wan glared at his young padawan, who was entirely too amused at his expense. They had just finished up a mission on a remote planet that neither of them had known much about. In order to express deep gratitude, the emperor had invited them to what Obi-Wan had roughly translated as a group session. A group session of  _ what  _ should have been his first question, but it hadn’t been. He had good naturedly accepted the offer, taken Anakin with him, and entered the solarium expecting to find a meditation circle, maybe even some form of yoga. And, well, they had certainly walked in on people in a lot of different positions, but they weren’t doing yoga. Obi-Wan had been completely unable to stop himself from saying  _ oh!  _ rather loudly and attracting the attention of nearly every creature in the room. He’d then awkwardly coughed, offered a weak smile and waved, then grabbed Anakin, who was already breaking into peals of laughter, by the arm and dragging him right back out of the room without even an attempt at an explanation, but not before they’d both seen far more than they’d bargained for. 

“Who knew that  _ tentacles  _ could actually come in handy, Master?”

“Anakin.” 

Obi-Wan’s tone made Anakin shut his mouth and glance down at his shoes as he followed Obi-Wan the remaining ten feet to the living area. They stopped walking at the same time, then glanced at each other. There was a beat of silence as their eyes locked, then they both burst out laughing. 

Obi-Wan reached out and grabbed Anakin by the waist, hauling him off his feet.

“Master!” Anakin vocalized, a little higher pitched than usual, in between laughs, hands reaching up to clutch at Obi-Wan’s shoulders, fingers curling in his robes. 

Obi-Wan simply laughed in response, and let them fall back onto the couch, keeping Anakin cradled in his lap. He nudged his nose against the side of Anakin’s face and laughed heartily, wrapping his arms more tightly around Anakin’s waist. “I never  _ wanted _ to know how tentacles could come in handy,” he chuckled, enjoying the sensation of laughter vibrating in Anakin’s chest. 

“Mmm… Maybe we should’ve stuck around, Master,” Anakin replied teasingly, leaning happily into Obi-Wan’s arms. “Maybe we could’ve seen tentacles do even more…”

Laughing dryly, Obi-Wan let a hand slide up Anakin’s back, then pulled him in for a kiss. “While I certainly appreciated their hospitality, I don’t share.”

Anakin’s laughter abruptly stopped and he shivered, moving his hands up from Obi-Wan’s shoulders to twist in his hair. They kissed harder, and Anakin sighed. “What has gotten into you, Master?”

“Not tentacles,” Obi-Wan deadpanned, and then he and Anakin were laughing against each other’s mouths. 

He lowered Anakin back onto the couch, gazing down at him and watching the way that his hair splayed messily across the almost-ugly burgundy of the sofa. Anakin was still laughing a little and Obi-Wan reached down to trace his finger over Anakin’s lips. 

Anakin opened his mouth reflexively and Obi-Wan leaned down to kiss him again, and Anakin moaned in surprise at how hot Obi-Wan’s tongue was against his bottom lip. “Mmmph… Thought we had to be controlled on missions… show restraint…” Anakin countered as Obi-Wan’s kisses trailed hotly down his neck. At least, that’s what Obi-Wan had told him last time they were debriefing on a mission and Anakin stuck his hand down his pants. Anakin felt particularly smug when he thought about how Obi-Wan had still let him finish the handjob before that rule went into effect. 

“Mm. Technically the mission is over... Do you want me to stop?” Obi-Wan asked, glancing up at Anakin with a playful smile. 

Anakin rolled his eyes and brushed his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair absentmindedly. “Obviously not, Master,” he sighed when Obi-Wan’s mouth resumed the kisses against his neck. “Just, don’t tell me that the group meeting put you in this mode…”

Obi-Wan’s head shot up and he stared at Anakin in horror for a second or two, until he saw the playful smirk on Anakin’s mouth, and realised his sarcasm. They both laughed. 

“It’s nice to see you laugh.”

Anakin was a little surprised, perking his head up, at Obi-Wan's honest confession. “Mmm?” he replied, continuing to finger brush Obi-Wan’s hair.

“Mhhm.” Obi-Wan trailed his thumb across Anakin’s chin, then let his fingers trace the dried tear tracks on Anakin’s cheeks. 

Anakin tilted his head and reflexively tried to lean into Obi-Wan’s touch. “You, too.” Now it was Obi-Wan’s turn to look surprised. “Really, Master, you should laugh more often.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but really, the words warmed his heart in a place that had only been touched by Anakin. 

The sentiment made him completely miss Anakin’s hand slipping between his legs and when he felt Anakin’s fingers brush against him, he started and then shivered. “You’re freezing…” he murmured, though he didn’t protest beyond a few little whines and twitches when Anakin’s cold fingers wrapped around him.

“I’ll warm up,” Anakin assured, and his other hand rested on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss that was anything but cold. “I just thought you should moan a little more often, too…”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes again and huffed out a laugh, though it did quickly dissolve into a moan, giving Anakin everything that he wanted. 

As Anakin stroked him languidly, Obi-Wan moved his kisses across Anakin’s face, kissing the dried tears on his face then both of his eyes. He’d seen Anakin cry before, so many times that he had lost count--though he knew it was three times in the last month--and this wasn’t the first time that he’d kissed tear stains, but it was the first time in a long time that he’d enjoyed putting them there. 

He’d walk in on anything if it made Anakin laugh so hard that he cried, no matter how many tentacles were involved.

His guard was down, as Anakin was slowly driving him out of his mind, and Anakin must’ve sensed the thought, because his young padawan kissed him harder, crashing their teeth together. 

“Oww,” Obi-Wan reflexively said, and then they both laughed softly. Anakin’s grip tightened--he had warmed up--and laughter was fading softly into heavy breathing and soft utterances of Anakin’s name. 

He came on Anakin’s hand with a shudder and a groan, and watched, eyes a little glazed as Anakin brought the hand up to his mouth and began to lick. Obi-Wan groaned again. 

Anakin smiled, a little more sweetly than he’d intended to, and carded his clean hand through Obi-Wan’s hair. “Let’s go clean up, Master?” He offered, then almost squealed when Obi-Wan shook his head and shifted so that he was on his knees in front of the couch, dragging Anakin until he was halfway off the couch, legs over Obi-Wan’s shoulders. He was already breathing heavily, and he watched, wide-eyed in anticipation, as Obi-Wan smirked.

“Not yet, my young padawan. Let’s see if I can make you cry twice in one night.” 

  
Well, okay. There might have been a few different ways that he enjoyed making Anakin cry. 


	4. BOND

It should have been terrible.

Obi-Wan knew this.

And sometimes, it was.

It was terrible when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, feeling as if his skin was being peeled off inch by inch, feeling as if his entire body was being ripped apart then put back together again, only to writhing, but safe, in his own bed. 

It was terrible when he was performing some mundane task, perhaps washing a dish or walking to the market, when he felt a surge of anger so strong that it caused him to stagger, made him see white.

It was the most terrible when he was lying in bed alone, and suddenly his hand drifted over to the cold, empty other side, and he felt empty, and he didn’t know whose emptiness he was feeling.

Force bonds weren’t supposed to work like this. That Obi-Wan knew for certain. When he had taken Anakin on as a padawan, they had instantly formed a bond. Initially, it was pretty principle stuff, as a normal force bond would be. They were simply hyperaware of one another’s presence, and could get basic energy readings off one another. It encouraged closeness, and as they grew closer, the bond intensified--it was cyclical. As they grew, their bond grew as well. Obi-Wan could hand Anakin something before he ever got around to asking for it, and Anakin wouldn’t be surprised. They could easily sense one another’s emotions, and though they couldn’t hear one another’s thoughts, they almost always knew them. Physical conditions were easily transmitted, too. Obi-Wan caught ill once, feeling generally fatigued and miserable, and he noticed that Anakin was dragging around as well, falling asleep on the couch and complaining about how badly his throat hurt. Concerned and overprotective as he was, Obi-Wan made him go to med bay. They were both expecting Anakin to have the same strand of virus that Obi-Wan had, but upon his visit to the healer, they discovered that nothing was wrong with him. He had no virus, he was not sick at all. He was, in fact, in peak physical condition. The reason that he was feeling fatigue and soreness and general illness, was because Obi-Wan was. Anakin had badgerd him mercilessly to get enough vitamin C after that revelation. 

When Anakin was sixteen, he masturbated for the first time. When he climaxed, Obi-Wan felt it two rooms down. It had been fairly late at night, when Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by an unfurling bliss in his stomach. He had gasped, back arching off the bed, as such a euphoric force rolled over him, making him shudder and groan once it finally subsided, leaving him a little boneless. He had felt the pleasure so intensely, that he actually glanced down to see if he had climaxed himself. He hadn’t--he’d simply experienced the feeling of Anakin’s. That had been awkward to deal with the next morning, to say the least. 

So it was safe to say that he was used to sharing everything with Anakin. Every thought, every feeling, every physical state of being, easily transmitted back and forth between him and Anakin, and when even Master Yoda commented on exactly how strong their bond seemed to be, Obi-Wan had just shrugged. Sure, of course it was. He and Anakin had a strong relationship. Mostly, he chalked it up to how close they were, even for a master and padawan duo, and how emotional Anakin still was, despite what a proficient jedi he was becoming. Anakin had still always been driven by passion, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t be surprised at all if that exacerbated their force connection. Obi-Wan easily and quickly got to the point where he just started to take it for granted. He would hand Anakin a cup of caf the second that he walked into the kitchen, because he already knew Anakin really wanted one and wasn’t awake yet. Anakin would send little soothing tendrils of the force out when Obi-Wan had a headache, or sometimes, if he was feeling particularly affectionate, he would card his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair. Obi-Wan always found Anakin’s cool fingers soothing against his temples. They finished each other’s sentences, and answered unspoken questions. It was commonplace.

Then, Obi-Wan learned what it felt like to have a part of him ripped out. The worst pain he’d felt to date. It felt like someone stuck their hand into his chest and ripped his heart out, leaving his chest a broken cage of bone and blood. Anakin broke their bond. He renounced his fealty to Obi-Wan, and swore his allegiance to Palpatine. And Obi-Wan had never feared death, but as he fell to his knees in pain, completely unaware of why, he thought that he just might be dying and maybe he should fear it, if this is what it felt like. 

When he saw the holo of Anakin’s pledge to Palpatine, it all clicked into place. That’s why he’d felt such a strange, creeping absence. He’d assumed it was because he and Anakin were physically distant, as there had been so many years when Anakin was always at his side. No, it was because he was only feeling half of himself--he was feeling himself, but he wasn’t feeling Anakin. And after over twelve years of feeling Anakin’s feelings right next to his, his no longer knew how to occupy the entire space of his chest. Anakin had left an air bubble in his chest, and Obi-Wan may not have always been aware of it when it was full, but now that it was empty, it seemed he was constantly aware.

And would have to be aware for the rest of his days.

At least, that’s what he would’ve believed. 

Except, Anakin didn’t break their bond.

He did swear his allegiance to Palpatine, he did renounce himself from Obi-Wan. It had been over five years since Obi-Wan had last seen him. 

But, their bond was not gone.

Obi-Wan had been made aware of that approximately a day after the darkest day he would ever face, after he left Anakin on Mustafar. Because he knew Anakin lived. At first, he hadn’t believed it. It was wishful thinking, it was a hope kissed by a prayer and blessed by a delusion. 

After Anakin was rescued, after the reconstruction surgery began, when Obi-Wan awoke screaming, only to see that his skin was perfectly in-tact, he said it was just the guilt.

However, once he got confirmation that Anakin did indeed live, that Darth Vader rose, it became harder to doubt the full feeling in his chest. 

Their bond had not been broken.

Despite what Anakin did, the betrayal, the bloodshed, the active revoking of their connection, it still remained in tact. Of course, it was weaker than it used to be, and it came in flashes, rather than the steady, constant presence it once was. 

For a while, after he realised that they were still bonded, he had considered seeking out Master Yoda about it, as he knew how unusual this was. An ex-jedi knight bonded to one of the most dangerous sith lords the galaxy had ever seen. It seemed worth a mention. 

Why hadn’t he?

Sometimes he would wake up in the morning, and he would know that Anakin was waking up, too.

He would be outside, walking in the hot sun, and he would suddenly feel cold. Anakin must’ve been somewhere cold.

A rush of great annoyance, it almost made Obi-Wan smile as he imagined Anakin shouting at a stormtrooper.  

It should have been terrible, and sometimes it was.

Sometimes it wasn’t. 

Obi-Wan was not naïve, nor masochistic, enough to believe that one day he and Anakin would reconcile. He knew as well as anyone else knew, the only left for Anakin was to be stopped. He would never be by Anakin’s side again. He would never mindlessly hand Anakin a drink first thing in the morning, nor would he leave his door open at night because he knew that Anakin would have a nightmare and come looking for him. 

If these brief flashes of  _ cold _ ,  _ annoyed _ ,  _ tired _ , if the occasional bouts of pain, the odd craving for a dish he’d never actually eaten before, knowing that for every time he felt cold, annoyed, or tired, Anakin felt just as much of him--if those were the only ways that he would ever be close to Anakin again…

  
Well, sometimes it just wasn’t terrible. 


	5. COMFORT or TENSION

Anakin stormed through the living area, tossing his robe as he went, and Obi-Wan was left to trail after him, only halfheartedly trying to get Anakin to stop, listen, and calm down, as he knew that there was no way it was going to happen, Anakin was going to have to rage it out of his system first. Still, Obi-Wan tried, following Anakin and trying to stop him from storming through the living area entirely. He was partly successful as Anakin tossed his saber carelessly into a nearby chair and then spun around, eyes shining in frustration and anger.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan reached his hand out, in a faint attempt to calm Anakin, but instead his padawan exploded.

“That’s just it, isn’t it?!” he yelled, and Obi-Wan sighed. Despite Anakin’s beliefs, he really did understand why he was upset. He just didn’t understand why Anakin was always so insistent on shouting his feelings. It didn’t seem to do anything but rile him up more, and it accomplished nothing. Still, Obi-Wan was used to Anakin’s rages, and he listened patiently, already ready to give him the comforting spiel he always gave. “They’re never going to trust me, are they?”

“Anakin, you’ve not yet taken your trials. One day, when you have passed them, you can be apart of the jedi council if you wish--”

“So, what? Nothing I have to say is valuable just because I’m still training?” 

Obi-Wan frowned. “Of course it is, I didn’t say that, Anakin--”

“I’m your padawan, after all, the great Knight Kenobi’s--you’d think that would get me at least a crumb of respect--”

“Anakin--”

Anakin sighed heavily and flopped down into a chair, slumping down and watching the fight leave him was always one of the saddest sights, to Obi-Wan. It was so rare, Anakin was always filled with so much passion, Obi-Wan had so much trouble with his insubordinance, especially at the beginning of their relationship, yet watching him gave up, made something hurt right where Obi-Wan’s heart should be. Anakin Skywalker wasn’t the type to give up. 

“Of course. I don’t know why I thought they’d listen to me. I am...tainted.” Anakin spit out the word, but he couldn’t muster up enough anger and instead just moved his eyes to the floor and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “The darkness is just too strong with me, after all.”

That was it.

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees in front of Anakin, bracing one hand on his knee and moving the other to tilt Anakin’s chin up. “Anakin. Do not ever say that about yourself.”

Anakin tried to turn his head away, but Obi-Wan held tightly, fingers fanning across Anakin’s jaw, and forced the young jedi to look at him. “Why not?” Anakin spit out, “They’ve all said it about me, every time, Master. It doesn’t matter what I do. I’ve saved people, I help people--Master, I really do try, you know I try--it doesn’t make any difference. I’ll never be good enough.”

“Anakin. Anakin, listen to me.” Obi-Wan desperately kept his hand on Anakin’s face, fingers probably gripping a little too hard, and eyes staring a little too intently. The grip hurt, but Anakin didn’t say anything so Obi-Wan kept his fingers pressed there. Secretly, Anakin was hoping that it would leave a bruise. “You are good enough.”

Anakin snorted and Obi-Wan moved from his kneeling position in order to try and get closer to Anakin and ended up awkwardly crouching in front of him. “There’s not another jedi in all of the galaxy I would rather have by my side, Anakin. Yes, you are rash, impulsive, stubborn--you never listen, you are always just one bad decision away from giving me a heartattack--”

“Master, is this supposed to be making me feel better?” Anakin asked, but Obi-Wan could see just a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“And you are one of the most, if not the most, skilled jedis I have ever met.” Obi-Wan continued as though Anakin hadn’t interrupted, “Your force connection amazes me. Despite your questionable methods, Anakin, you are the most loyal, brave padawan I ever could have hoped for.” Tenderly, and as if to enunciate his point, Obi-Wan reached out to touch Anakin’s metal hand. He wasn’t sure if Anakin knew, but sometimes when he wasn’t paying attention, he would gaze at it, and guilt and affection would rival one another.

Anakin knew.

After the gentle touch, Anakin used said metal hand to grip Obi-Wan’s arm and unceremoniously haul him into his lap. Obi-Wan fell with a graceless oof, and Anakin simply responded by wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and pressing his face against his shoulder.

They rarely sat like this, if anything, it was usually Anakin in his lap, and Obi-Wan shifted a little uncomfortably. “Anakin--honestly--am I not crushing you?” 

Anakin scoffed softly and simply tightened his grip. “Of course not, Master. Better watch it with the blue milk, though, or one day you will.” 

Obi-Wan laughed, but it came out more as a quiet sigh, and he finally gave in, settling into Anakin and shifting so he could drape one arm around Anakin’s shoulders and keep him pulled in close. 

After a few minutes of companionable silence, simply enjoying one another’s body heat and breathing, Anakin spoke, a little muffled by Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “It’s just hard, Master. I left everything to do this--I gave up everything to become a jedi. And it’s like they don’t even want me to be one.”

Obi-Wan left his hand drift down from Anakin’s shoulder to rub over his back comfortingly. “The council has never seen power like yours, Anakin. Great power is always feared.”

“I guess.” Anakin replied, a little listlessly, but Obi-Wan felt a few little kisses press against his shoulder and those made him smile.

“You know, Anakin, no matter what The Jedi Council thinks, it does not reflect what I think. And nobody knows you the way that I know you.” 

Anakin didn’t speak for another long couple of minutes, but Obi-Wan felt a couple hot patches of moisture spread across the cloth of his robe on his shoulder and he turned slightly, so that he could give Anakin the closest thing to a hug he could in this position.

“I want to make you proud, Master.”

If Obi-Wan’s heart weren’t encased, it would be bleeding. “Anakin,” his lips brushed against Anakin’s hairline, then the crown of his head. “You do. You will. No matter what happens, I will always be proud of you.”

Anakin returned to his previous silence, arms still wrapped around Obi-Wan’s waist, face still hiding in his shoulder. However, through their bond, Obi-Wan could slowly but surely feel the tension leaving Anakin’s body, and he breathed out a silent sigh of relief. 

The silence was nice, and Obi-Wan was even beginning to enjoy sitting in Anakin’s lap, he thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he did it more often, but Anakin could never stay in silence for too long, and his hands began to rub up and down Ob-Wani’s torso.

“I want to make out now,” Anakin announced, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but still, with a little fumbling, managed to turn so that he was straddling Anakin’s lap and then their lips were pressing together, kissing sloppily. Anakin’s hands easily found his hips and he squeezed, making Obi-Wan reflexively press down into his lap with a little whine.

Anakin laughed, and sucked on Obi-Wan’s tongue, one hand staying on his hips to keep him grinding down and the other reached up to tangle in Obi-Wan’s silky hair. He’d always had a fascination with Obi-Wan’s hair, ever since he’d grown out. He remembered watching it grow out when he’d still been a child. He would watch Obi-Wan brush it sometimes, and sometimes he’d tell him that he was starting to look just like Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan would always get emotional when he said that. Other times he would ask if his own hair would ever look like that. Obi-Wan would typically smile, that warm and gentle smile, and say that yes, when he got older, he could grow his hair out, too. Anakin might’ve been a little more bitter that here he was, hair grown out, and it was typically just a tangled mess, nothing like Obi-Wan’s silky, golden hair, but he loved getting his fingers tangled in Obi-Wan’s hair too much to complain.

Anakin was essentially urging Obi-Wan to dry hump him, and Obi-Wan’s cheeks were a little red as he and Anakin broke their kiss to breathe. He could feel how hard Anakin was underneath him, and it seemed pretty safe to say that he’d managed to cheer his padawan for. That was what masters were for, he told himself. 

He saw Anakin smirk as he lazily rolled his hips, making Obi-Wan gasp. “You know, Master, the Jedi Council really thinks that I’m the darkness.” 

Obi-Wan gazed up at Anakin, lips shiny with their spit, and eyes a little glazed. “No--”

“But you don’t have any darkness in you at all, do you, Master?” 

“Anakin--”

“Would you like some?” Anakin rolled his hips a little harder this time and quirked an eyebrow, feeling a rush of self-satisfaction when he saw Obi-Wan’s face flush as he gritted his teeth and tried, and failed, to chastise him. 

“No, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, one hand moving up the nape of Anakin’s neck to tangle in his hair. “No, darkness. Just you.” 

Anakin groaned involuntarily and pulled Obi-Wan’s hair, then it was a competition to see who could come up with the most creative ways to get their clothes off, with the least amount of moving. 

Maybe The Jedi Council’s opinion of him would never change. But as long as Obi-Wan’s didn’t either, he would be okay.


End file.
